


Forever Burning Bright

by WhichWolfWins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Souls, Technically major character death, but if you read it you'll understand why I didn't tag it as such
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 16:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhichWolfWins/pseuds/WhichWolfWins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester was the first soul to ever capture Death's attention so wholly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever Burning Bright

**Author's Note:**

> There is a huge possibility that this doesn't make any sense, because I'm running on barely any sleep, but I had to get it out of my head. I hope you guys like it.
> 
> This fic is in no way beta'd, so if you see any mistakes, they are my own and I would love for you to inform me of them! :)
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke, Kripke Enterprises, Wonderland Sound and Vision, and Warner Bros. Television, and anyone else involved in the making and producing of this show. This is in no way mine; these are their toys and I am simply playing with them.

The first time Death met Dean Winchester, he was absolutely fascinated. He watched in amusement as the bright little soul, the brightest he’d ever seen, writhed in his hand and tried to escape his grasp. Dean Winchester was defiant from the beginning, fighting against Death with tooth and nail, because he had to get back to his brother. He had to get back to Sammy.  


Death was there each time Dean Winchester died and there certainly were many times. He had a sweet spot for the little soul. He felt pity for the thing, more so than most, because this was a soul with a purpose. He hadn't know that this was the soul that would change everything. Death is glad that he didn't know what was ahead for Dean. If he'd known, he probably wouldn't have let him go. If he had known, Dean never would have been whole.  


Death told Dean once that his people were like germs, and he meant it, but if Dean Winchester were a germ, he would be the kind that spread like wild fire, infecting all those around him, and so on and so forth until there was a pandemic on our hands. Dean Winchester didn’t do things by halves. If he were a germ, Dean Winchester would make sure that he were the best.  


There was something Death had thought unforgivable about the fact that Dean Winchester never had a choice. God made his special children with free will, except those that were needed to be a pawn on the chessboard that was life. Dean Winchester was a key player, a knight in shining armor if you will, and everything had been mapped out for him from the start.  


The fact that it didn’t seem to matter to Dean that he was never given a choice made the corner of Death’s lips quirk up into the hint of a smile. Dean Winchester was never given a choice, so he made one for himself, the brave little soul.  


When Sam Winchester came knocking on Death’s door, he was ready to leave. There was a softness to his soul, a peace about it, that spoke of a life of meaning, a life well lived. Death had cracked the door open hesitantly to the boy, feeling hesisitant for the first time in his long existence about taking a soul that was meant to be taken, but the brightly burning flame of Dean Winchester’s soul was never far and it came tearing through the door to take his brother back.  


That certainly wouldn’t be the last time Death saw Dean Winchester, and it wasn’t long until Dean was back, again and again until one day he was a tattered soul, torn to shreds. He was almost unrecognizable, except he was still shining like the rays of the sun. As it turned out, Dean had been passing through, and Death closed his eyes against the dimming light of that beautiful soul as it went below.  


The sound of angels singing, one louder than the rest, caught Death's attention and he watched as Dean’s swirling soul, still somehow so very, very bright, became blinding, and the shape of a handprint, one that Death had seen the faint outline of the first time he'd set eyes on Dean's soul, blazed to life. Death knew as he watched Dean Winchester’s soul, weeping drops of light as it went, was finally made whole, and it was blinding, and Death smiled.  


Castiel’s, too, was the brightest soul Death had ever seen, one of a matching pair, and he didn’t think twice before he sent it back home -not the first time, nor the second, nor the many other times to follow. He always sent that dazzling soul back to where it belonged.  


Death had once thought it a tragedy that Dean Winchester never had a choice, but he knew as he watched those souls, brighter than a thousand suns, that if Dean Winchester had a choice, he never would have chosen this for himself, that he never would have thought himself worthy of this. And for that, Death laughed softly.

**Author's Note:**

> If you can, I would really appreciate you letting me know what you thought of this!
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> If you would like to follow me on Tumblr, you can find me [here!](http://whichwolfwins.tumblr.com/)


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